Blaine Anderson-Stark Drabbles
by HeronRainwater
Summary: Blaine Anderson is Tony Stark's son. One-shots in the Blaine Anderson-Stark universe, originally posted on my Tumblr/AO3
1. One

"Fellowship of the Ring _again_?" Peter sighed, dropping unceremoniously on to the couch regardless. "Really, Stark?"

"Anderson-Stark," Blaine corrected, his eyes not leaving the screen.

"Whatever."

"Besides, Parker, if you're so sick of Fellowship, why do you always end up watching it with me?" Blaine countered, raising an eyebrow.

"'Cause Hobbits, man," Peter nudged him with his shoulder. "Where's Tony?"

"In the lab with Bruce, I think," Blaine shrugged. "Well, they were earlier anyway. There were explosions. You're welcome to risk going down there if you want to."

"And leave my best friend to watch Lord of the Rings all on his own?"

"Best friend? I'm your only friend."

"Details, details," Peter scoffed. Blaine shook his head in dismissal, declining to comment. For a short while there was nothing but the sound of Elijah Wood's voice and Peter muttering along under his breath.

Blaine opened his mouth, ready to dismiss his earlier assumption regarding the whereabouts of his father, only to be cut off by a muted crashing sound. Peter and Blaine exchanged a glance, the floor shaking underneath them.

"Jarvis?" Blaine asked tentatively.

"Yes, Master Blaine?"

"Are they… is everything okay?"

"We're fine! Everything's fine, it's all good," Tony Stark yelled from several floors below them. "Do me a favour, kid; don't mention this to your mom when she calls."

"I'm gonna go science" Peter decided suddenly, "Let me know if they decide to skip the build-up and make it to Mordor by the end of the movie this time around."

"Don't let them blow you up, Spidey."

"Later, Stark."

"_Anderson_-Stark."

"Give up, Blainers, it's not going to happen." Blaine rolled his eyes. Peter smirked, unconsciously running a hand through his hair and disappearing into the corridor.

"Hey, Jarvis?"

"Yes, Master Blaine?"

"They _are_ okay, aren't they? Everything's fine?"

"Neither Sir nor Doctor Banner appear wounded in the slightest, young Master."

"Awesome. Thanks, Jarvis."

"And if I may, might I suggest you follow Sir's advice and neglect to mention these failed experimentations to your mother?"

"Well, it's not like she _needs_ to know, is it?" Blaine mused, "It's not like anything's on fire. Not yet, anyway. What she doesn't know won't hurt her, right?"

"I agree, young Sir."

* * *

Blaine stood in the doorway of the research lab on Stark Tower's nineteenth floor. Well, in reality, Blaine stood in the doorway of what remained of the research lab of Stark Tower's nineteenth floor. Tony watched him, somewhat sheepishly. Bruce absently shook dust and minute fragments of debris from his hair. Peter had pulled on his mask, coughing sullenly into the crook of his elbow.

"Don't tell Pepper," Tony said, pointing a warning finger at his son.

"I think she's going to notice, dad," Blaine commented, his eyes flickering to where Dum-E was spraying a fire extinguisher on a flame that had been quenched a good ten minutes ago.

"But you won't tell her?" Blaine gaped in response, shook his head and sighed.

"I'm going to see Kurt," Blaine said tiredly, "If I'm not here when Pepper gets back, I can't be held accountable for any part of this."

"So you aren't going to tell her?"

Blaine rolled his eyes and turned on his heel. "Bye."

"Thanks, kid."

Blaine grinned.


	2. Blaine is sick and Tony is useless

"Are you dying?"

Blaine rolled over, clutching the blankets tighter around him. He squinted as best he could at his father, who was stood with his head peeking around Blaine's door, the light from the hallway brightening Blaine's room more than he would've liked. "What?"

"Are you dying?" Tony repeated. "God, you sound terrible. What is it, the plague? Pneumonia? It's not pneumonia again, is it? Remember when I was watching you when you were six months old and you got pneumonia and you freaked the shit out of me? No, of course you don't, you were six months old. Do I need to get Bruce? I don't think he's that sort of doctor but he's _a_ doctor and that's got to count for something, right? He was doing doctor things in Calcutta. I could get Bruce-"

"_Dad_," Blaine croaked, "Stop it. I'm not dying. It's the flu."

"People die of the flu."

"Do you _want_ me to die of the flu?"

"God, no, what would your mother say?"

"Go away and let me _sleep_," Blaine moaned.

"You want anything? Soup? People give sick people soup, right? I can make soup. Probably. I can work it out. I can engineer AIs and robots and arc reactor technology, I can probably work out soup-"

"I don't want _soup_," Blaine sniffed, rolling back over and burying his face in his pillow.

"Fine. Don't suffocate."

Blaine grunted in response. The door closed with a click. Blaine pulled the duvet up over his head and tried to block out the world.

* * *

"Blaine?" The covers were gingerly tugged away from his head. He whined, burrowing further into the pillow as a means of making up the missing warmth. "Blaine."

"No," He mumbled. There was a low chuckle in response. Blaine frowned. "Bruce?"

"Your dad's ninety percent sure you're about to die," Bruce said in way of an explanation, "He was even prepared to make soup. That idea fell through pretty quickly, though."

"Well, 'm not dying and I don' want soup," Blaine muttered. A calloused hand rested on his forehead.

"Try telling him that."

"I _did_," Blaine huffed, "And clearly he didn't believe me."

"Evidently," Blaine could practically hear him nodding sympathetically. "You'll be fine in a few days; I'll try to keep him preoccupied, all right?"

"Bruce, you're my favourite, you know that?"

Bruce laughed. "Get some sleep, buddy."

* * *

"Are you dying _now_?"

"Dad, _please_, _go away_."

"I'm just being a good parent, brat. You don't sound as dead anymore, that's good, right? Or have we reached the eye of the storm? Do you get one of those with diseases? Because-"

"Tony, _stop_."

"What's Abby going to say if I send our son back to her in a coffin because he was murdered by ruthless pathogens, Pepper? Answer me that."

"Don't you think you're being just the slightest bit over dramatic?" Pepper asked, carding her fingers through Blaine's curls. He hummed in response.

"There's no such thing as over dramatic when it comes to Abigail Anderson. There isn't a force on earth that could stop that woman from tearing my head off my shoulders if she wanted to. Don't tell her I said that."

Blaine managed a half-hearted smile.

"Let him be, Tony."

"_Fine_. You'd better not kick the bucket just because I'm not paying attention, you got that?"

Blaine grunted.

"I'm glad we're on the same page."

* * *

"I heard you were dying," Peter remarked, shuffling not at all discretely away from Blaine to the other end of the couch, "Full on zombie virus disease control season-four-of-the-walking-dead dying."

"Obviously I _wasn't_" Blaine sniffed, tucking his knees under his chin. "No zombie viruses here."

"Are you contagious? I can't have your germs, imagine how embarrassing it would be if I was in full sarcasm mode with some evil villain and then I just sneezed in his face."

"You'd just sneeze in the mask, would you?"

"Ew," Peter scrunched up his face, "Thanks for the visual."

"Welcome," Blaine cleared his throat. "Anyway, Bruce gave me the all clear, not that he's that sort of doctor in any way, shape or form, but if you start coughing phlegm on the bad guys of New York-"

"Ugh, Blaine, really?"

"-Then you've got him to hold responsible," Blaine shrugged.

"God, phlegming on bad guys. Screw you creative types, take your imagination elsewhere."

"You're not dead," Tony appeared in the doorway, tilting his head to the side.

"Uh… no, sorry," Blaine rubbed the back of his neck.

"Good," Tony said, "I can't make soup."

"…What?" Peter frowned.

"Soup is _complicated_, bug boy," Tony replied, "At what point does it stop looking like congealed goo?"

"It doesn't," Blaine muttered.

"Soup," Tony scoffed, "Waste of time."

"Absolutely," Blaine nodded tiredly.

"'It's not rocket science'; God, you're telling me. Rocket science is easier, I swear to God."

"Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you done?"

"Oh. Yeah, I guess."


	3. Revealing Secrets

For the Tumblr Prompt: Mutant Kurt?

* * *

"Blaine, I need to talk to you."

Blaine sat gingerly on the edge of Kurt's bed, "Is it about us? Is it me? Do you want to break up? What do I need to do to-"

"Blaine, we've been dating for eight days, I'm not breaking up with you," Kurt smiled anxiously. "But I can't… I can't do _this_ unless I'm being completely honest with you."

"Whatever it is, it can't be that bad, can it?" Blaine laughed nervously, "It's not like you've killed a man. Have you? Oh my God, Kurt, have you killed a man?"

"No, Blaine, I haven't killed anyone," Kurt rolled his eyes. "It's… it's a bit more complicated than that."

"Well…" Blaine prompted, gesturing for Kurt to go on.

"I have the x-gene." Blaine gaped at him. Of course his boyfriend was a mutant. His dad was going to have a field day.

"Um-"

"Oh, sorry, that probably means nothing to you, right?" Kurt mistook Blaine's surprise for confusion. Of course, to Kurt's credit, he had no way of knowing that Blaine had been formally introduced to Xavier himself. Blaine was nothing if not an actor; if Kurt thought he didn't know what an x-gene was then that was the story he was going to keep to. "It means that I'm… I'm different. I can, uh…" Kurt paused. With a grimace, he glanced at Blaine and clicked his fingers.

"Holy… huh," Blaine raised his eyebrows, "That's… that's very Human Torch of you."

Kurt smirked, clicking his fingers again and extinguishing the flame. "So, if _you_ want to break up with _me_ then I completely understand-"

"My dad's Tony Stark."

"I… I'm sorry, what?"

"I thought we were just going with the slightly outlandish confessions and I don't know I saw an opening I'm sorry."

"_Tony Stark._"

"I realise in hindsight that we should stagger life-changing revelations."

"This is amazing."

"I- _amazing_?"

"I thought I was the only one with a skeleton in the closet, but your skeleton has a suit made out of iron and flies around blowing up bad guys."

"It's more of a gold-titanium alloy really, but-"

"This is _insane_."

"What, _my_ deep dark secret is insane? You can make fire! _With your mind!_"

"Your father is a billionaire superhero."

"Let's just… let's hold off on the crazy secrets for a while. I think we've got enough to keep us going for a few weeks. Or months. Or years."


	4. Revealing Secrets Follow-up

"So, what you're trying to tell me," Tony said slowly, looking from Kurt to Blaine, "Is that _your boyfriend_-"

"Who's sat _right in front of you_, by the way," Blaine reminded him, a silent warning of _for God's sake, be polite_ evident in his eyes.

"Right, yeah. But the point here is that your- _you_," Tony pointed at Kurt.

"It's rude to point."

"It's ruder to interrupt, Blaine. He's a mutant. You're a mutant. One of Xavier's. X-gene and all that shit, right?"

"Yes, Mister Stark."

"Ugh, no, none of that, you're making me feel old."

"Usually you go for the 'Mister Stark was my father' line."

"Shut up Blaine."

"Listen, Mister- sorry, Tony. I get that you're probably worried about what me being… well, _me_ means. You know, Blaine- I, I just-"

"Stop."

"Dad, be nice."

"I _am _being nice. God, Blaine, give me some credit. I raised you, didn't I?"

"So?"

"Look, Kurt, are you dangerous?"

"No," Kurt shook his head, "I've got my power under control, I promise."

"It's just the fire thing, right? Same as that kid in the Fantastic Four?"

"Just the fire. I mean, I can't fly like the Human Torch can and I don't think his is from a genetic mutation, but basically."

"Are you planning on hurting my son, Kurt Hummel?"

"I would never hurt Blaine," Kurt promised, his eyes finding his boyfriend's, "He's the best thing that's ever happened to me and there's no way I'd ever take that for granted."

"Correct answer, well done. Because you know if you _did_ hurt him, I'd kill you. And then whatever remained of your body would be passed along to the rest of the Avengers to be dealt with as they please. They're pretty fond of this kid here, you see, God knows why."

"_Dad_."

"_What_, Blaine? Was that not handled tactfully enough for you? I don't care that your boyfriend's a mutant."

"It doesn't bother you at all?" Kurt asked unsurely.

"Not as long as you aren't hurting people, kid. There, was that an acceptable response, Blainers?"

"Uh," Blaine rubbed the back of his neck, "I guess, but I just…"

"You just _what_?"

"I guess I assumed you'd have more to say. You know, in the way of sarcastic remarks."

"Oh, trust me, kid, they're coming in due course," Tony smirked, "I currently have eight pending. Nine. Nine now."

"Great," Blaine sighed, casting an apologetic look in Kurt's direction.

"Hey, if things ever start hotting up between the two of you, use protection. Keep a fire extinguisher to hand."

"_Dad_."

"You were the one who prompted him," Kurt reminded him, "We almost avoided this all together."

"At least if our lights go out we'll always have a flash light to hand."

"Stop. Out. Go."

"I'm not even _half way _done yet, Blainers-"

"No, you are, go. Go away."


	5. Post-Shooting Star

Set following Glee episode 4x18 "Shooting Star"

* * *

Tony Stark had been waiting at the foot of the ramp the second the plane had landed. Blaine emerged not a moment later, followed closely by Colonel James Rhodes. Tony let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding, opening his arms just moments before his son ran into them.

"Mom isn't happy you flew me out here without giving her more warning," Blaine muttered into his father's chest.

"Rhodey offered to get you, she'll get over it," Tony replied, "You scared the shit out of us, kid."

"'m sorry," Blaine mumbled, "God, Dad, I was- I thought I was going to- I was so-"

"I know, I know," Tony said, nodded gratefully to Rhodey over Blaine's head, "You're okay, buddy, you're all right, it's okay."

* * *

"Thor, please put my son down before you choke him," Tony commented with a wry smile. To Blaine's relief, Thor complied.

"I am pleased to see you unharmed, young Stark."

"Thanks," Blaine managed a smile.

"Well, he _was_ unharmed, but then you gave him oxygen deprivation," Clint shrugged, clapping Blaine on the shoulder as he passed him.

"I'm all right, Thor, honest," Blaine insisted as Thor's face fell. "You didn't hurt me."

Blaine was spared from having to placate Thor further by Bruce's sudden arrival.

"Nobody said you were here," Bruce offered in way of an apology, "Your dad just left me halfway through an experiment. Are you okay? You're not hurt, are you?"

"I'm fine," Blaine sighed tiredly, "Not even a scratch."

"Good," Bruce smiled, "You had us worried there, buddy."

"I know," Blaine ran a hand through his hair. He was noticeably lacking in gel; of course, in the aftermath of a school shooting, hair products hadn't been his first concern. "I'm just… I'm just going to go to bed."

"You sure?" Tony asked, leaning back against the wall.

Blaine nodded.

"All right. Night, kid."

"Night."

* * *

Blaine sighed, kicking off the covers and sitting up.

"Jarvis, what time is it?"

"The time is three twenty AM, Master Blaine."

Blaine sighed again. "Thanks." He reached blindly for his glasses on the bedside cabinet, all but tumbling out of bed and getting to his feet.

The hallway was silent. The lights overhead came on as he passed underneath them, trailing a hand along the wall to his left and stifling a yawn. He made his way downstairs as quietly as he could, pausing when he noticed the light shining from the kitchen. He walked towards it slowly, not overly sure just who he was hoping to find.

"Peter?"

Peter looked up from where he'd been meticulously scooping cocoa powder into a mug and grinned. "You want one?"

"Sure."

"Hey, since when did you wear glasses?" Peter asked as he searched through the cupboards for a spare cup.

"Since I didn't care enough to put contacts in in the middle of the night."

"I getcha," Peter tapped his own glasses in understanding. He picked up the mugs, passing one over to Blaine. "How're you doing?"

"I'm-"

"If you say 'fine' I'm going to punch you in the face."

Blaine shook his head with a scoff, "I'm all right."

"Yeah?" Peter raised an eyebrow, "Is that why you're down here at three in the morning? Because you're 'all right'?"

"I'm…" Blaine stared at the floor. "I tried to sleep. But every time I close my eyes… I can hear the gun go off again and it's like I'm right back there and-"

"And that's why you can't sleep."

"Yeah."

"Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings?"

"What?" Blaine looked up with a frown.

"Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings?" Peter repeated.

"Harry Potter," Blaine replied slowly.

"Awesome," Peter brushed past him, gesturing for Blaine to follow, "Let's marathon this shit."

Blaine blinked. "What, right now?"

"You got somewhere else to be?"

"Well, no, but-"

"Come on, then, Potter time."

"Thanks, Peter."

"Don't go getting soppy on me now."

"Right."

"Ten dollars says you fall asleep before Lupin gets himself a job."

"I will not."

"Last time we all-night marathoned something, you didn't even make it out of the shire."

"Make it twenty and you've got yourself a deal, Parker."

"You're on."

* * *

"Blaine."

"Mm."

"Blaine."

"Wha'?"

"Pay up, Stark."

"Go 'way, Parker."


	6. In which Blaine runs away to New York

Tumblr Prompt: Blaine's mom's boyfriend/husband isn't accepting of Blaine

* * *

"Tony? Tony, could you turn the music _down_?" Tony looked up from his work bench.

"Cut the Metallica, Jarvis."

"Thank you," Pepper nodded.

"What is it? It's not an Avengers thing again, is it? Tell Nick I won't be attending due to my blatant lack of interest."

"It's not Nick Fury," Pepper said, "You've got a call waiting; it's Abigail."

"Oh," Tony scratched his head and got to his feet, "Uh, Jarvis, connect it to the thing, would you?"

"Certainly, Sir."

"Tony?" Abigail's voice, bordering on frantic, rang through the lab.

"It's not like you to willingly talk to me," Tony mused.

"Is Blaine with you?"

"Blaine?" Tony repeated, frowning in Pepper's direction, "Why would Blaine be with me? He's in Ohio with you."

"Because- Tony, he-"

"He _is_ in Ohio with you, isn't he?" Tony asked slowly.

"Carver and Blaine were fighting," Abigail managed, "They were yelling and-"

"_Blaine_ was yelling?" Tony raised an eyebrow questioningly, "The same Blaine who says please and thank you and holds doors open for old ladies?"

"They were yelling and… and Blaine just stormed out and we haven't seen him since. The Hummels haven't seen him; none of his friends have any idea where he is-"

"When was this? When did he walk out?"

"Tuesday evening. I- _we_ thought he'd just cool off and come back home, but-"

"My son went missing almost three days ago and I'm only hearing about it _now_?" Tony demanded, "What were you _waiting for_?"

"Carver thought it would be best to-"

"Fuck Carver. Go, call me if he comes back, I'm going to try to do something _useful._"

"Tony-"

"_Goodbye_." Tony sank back into this seat with a look of desperation. "My kid's missing, Pep."

"He'll be okay," Pepper assured him, not as confidently as Tony would've liked. "We'll find him, he'll be all right."

"Sir?"

"Not now, Jarvis," Tony dismissed.

"Sir, Mister Rogers wishes for me to inform you-"

"Steve can _wait_."

"Sir, Master Blaine is with him."

* * *

"Blaine!"

Blaine didn't look up at the sound of his dad's voice. He shivered slightly, one hand clutching at the coffee Steve had given him, the other hand tugging the blanket draped around his shoulders across his chest. Blaine could hear Steve muttering something, but he chose not to focus on the words. Instead, he fixed his eyes on a stain on the carpet. What was that, motor oil? It wouldn't surprise him.

"Blaine?" Tony was knelt down next to him. "Buddy?" Blaine took a deep breath, swallowed the lump in his throat and raised his head. If Tony was half as pissed about the black eye as Blaine thought he had to be, he did a good job of hiding it. "Did Carver do that to you?"

Blaine shrugged half-heartedly. "He isn't my biggest fan." Blaine gave an abysmal attempt at a smile.

Tony nodded once. "I'm going to kill him. I'm going to rip his head off his shoulders and toss it into the ocean."

"Tony," Pepper warned.

"You want a hand with that?"

"_Steve_," Pepper sighed.

"Don't, it's fine," Blaine insisted.

"'Fine'?" Tony scoffed, "How is it _fine_? That bastard doesn't get to hit you and get away with it. Does your mom know he hit you?"

"I shouldn't have been 'antagonising him'," Blaine mimicked, taking a sip of coffee.

"Antagonising him?" Tony scowled, "What were you doing?"

"Being gay?" Blaine offered. "Texting Kurt. 'Being a f- a fag under Carver's roof."

"He said that to you?"

Blaine shrugged again.

"How did you get here?" Tony asked. He turned to Steve. "Where did you find him?"

"Looking awful lost on 6th avenue and 14th street," Steve supplied.

"What, you just walked out and caught yourself a train?" Tony guessed. Blaine bit his lip.

"Not exactly."

"So what, you just _appeared here_? What- young man, don't tell me you hitchhiked."

"Uh-"

"Blaine Devon Anderson-Stark-"

"I'm sorry, I panicked, I didn't have any money and I couldn't just go back there and I didn't know what to do and-"

"Okay, okay. God, kid, you could've _called_. Even if I couldn't have gotten there, I could've _sent_ someone."

"I didn't really think, I just kind of… did."

"You're your father's son," Pepper sighed. "I'll go and give Abby a call-"

"I don't want to go back," Blaine interrupted, "Not yet, anyway."

"That's lucky, because you're not," Tony replied curtly, "Not while that asshole's there."

Blaine smiled weakly, "Thanks, dad."

"It's nothing," Tony dismissed. "Steve, can I talk to you for a minute?" Steve nodded and followed Tony out into the hallway.

"What-"

"I need you to keep them busy. I've got business in Ohio."

Steve smirked. "Sure thing," He nodded, patting Tony on the back and heading back in the direction of Pepper and Blaine. "Give the bastard a shiner from me."


	7. Blaine Meets The Avengers

Tumblr prompt: Blaine meets the Avengers

* * *

"Come on, I'll introduce you to everybody," Tony said, tugging Blaine by the arm and leading him down a set of stairs.

"Everybody's in your lab?"

"Everybody important," Tony insisted, keying in the code for the door. "Hey, Banner? Get over here."

A man a little older than Tony looked up from the desk he was sat at and got to his feet.

"You must be Blaine," He smiled, extending a hand for Blaine to shake, "I'm Bruce. Banner. Bruce Banner. Sorry, I'm, uh, I'm not great at introductions."

"Bruce is my science bro," Tony commented, "We science. There's science-ing."

"Right," Blaine nodded, surveying the lab and its state of disarray.

"And sometimes," Tony continued as an afterthought, "Bruce turns into an enormous green rage monster and smashes shit." Bruce closed his eyes, sighed and hung his head.

"As in, The Hulk?" Blaine frowned.

"This isn't really helping me make a great first impression, is it, Tony?" Bruce rubbed the back of his neck.

"The Hulk isn't all bad though," Blaine pointed out, "I mean, he saved my dad, so I owe him for that."

"Bruce grinned and shook his head, "I guess so."

"What's that?" Tony demanded, stepping around them to rifle through a pile of papers on Bruce's desk, "Have you been science-ing without me, Banner?"

"I, uh-"

"Blaine, I have to science. You'll be fine on your own, right?"

"Tony, he's been here for five minutes-"

"I'll… I'll be okay, I suppose."

"Close the door behind you, kid."

* * *

Blaine aimlessly wandered the halls of Stark Tower, trying obstinately to convince himself that he was _not_ lost, thank you very much. His dad had taken the opportunity to redecorate after Loki and The Hulk had obliterated the upper floors, and now Blaine wasn't exactly familiar with the layout of the whole place. There had to be stairs around here somewhere-

"Are you all right?" Blaine jumped, spinning so quickly he almost lost his balance.

"Fine, I'm fine, thanks, I…" Blaine blinked slowly, trailing off as he took in who he was blabbering at.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you-"

"You're Captain America," Blaine breathed. The other man grinned sheepishly.

"Steve Rogers," He introduced himself, "You're Tony's boy, right?"

"Blaine, I'm Blaine," He nodded, "I was you for Halloween when I was five."

"Oh-"

"I don't know why I told you that," Blaine frowned, "Sorry, that's really embarrassing; I'm going to stop now."

"No, no, it's all right," Steve assured him, "It's just funny. Tony wasn't my biggest fan when we first met, yet you clearly don't share the same opinion."

"Who wouldn't like you?" Blaine pointed out, "Other than my dad, I mean, but don't take it personally, he's like that with a lot of people. My boyfriend's a big fan of yours-"

"Your boyfriend?"

Blaine froze. "Oh. I forgot that you're from… not now, not that there aren't people now who don't- I mean- sorry if I'm making you uncomfortable, Captain, I'll-"

"Steve," Steve corrected, "And it doesn't bother me, son, Tony just neglected to mention it. You're a little young for a relationship, aren't you?"

"Sixteen's a pretty average age for this sort of thing, I think," Blaine shrugged.

"Right."

"So…" Blaine glanced over his shoulder, "Um-"

"Up the top and right."

"Sorry?"

"Top of this hall," Steve pointed, "And right. If you were looking for the stairs."

"Oh. Thanks."

"You're welcome."

* * *

"You're Stark's kid."

"Yeah, I'm-"

"Blaine," The man finished for him, "Clint Barton."

"You're the archer."

"What gave it away? Was it the bow I'm holding or the archery range in front of me?"

"Little bit of both."

"You ever shot an arrow?"

"Can't say I have."

"Come 'ere."

"I don't think my mom's going to be happy if she finds out my dad let a trained assassin teach me how to use a weapon."

"Well, you'd better not tell her then."

"Yes, Sir."

"No, not Sir. Clint."

"Yes Clint."

"Here, stand there. Hold it like- yep, that's it. Arrow goes there. Arm straight, draw back to your face. Let it fly."

"Did you see that?"

"Well, where else would I have been looking? That wasn't bad; we'll make a marksman of you yet, Stark."

"Anderson-Stark."

"Excuse me, I'm the teacher here; do it again, Stark."

* * *

"Hi."

Natasha looked up from her book slowly, "Hello."

"I'm Blaine, I'm-"

"Tony's kid," She nodded, "You look like him."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Blaine asked. Natasha smirked.

"It's just an observation."

"My mom would probably see it as a bad thing," Blaine mused.

"Probably," Natasha agreed. "It's not like Tony's the worst guy she could've fallen for, though; there are definitely worse men."

"Yeah, and she married one of them," Blaine scowled, "How does she break it off with _him_ and then decide to settle for a guy with less charisma than a walrus and all the charm of an earthworm? There are earthworms with a better sense of personal hygiene, I swear, they'd probably be easier to live with and-" Blaine stopped suddenly.

"And?" She prompted.

"You probably don't want to hear any of this, do you? Sorry, I… I ramble. I'll just…" Blaine pointed behind him, "Be going."

"Natasha Romanoff."

"Pardon?"

"That's my name."

"Oh. Hi."

Natasha scoffed. She waited until Blaine had left the room, shook her head and went back to her book.

* * *

"You are the son of the man of iron?"

"Yes, sir. I'm Blaine."

"It is an honour to meet you, Blaine, son of Stark. I am Thor, son of Odin."

"Yeah, you're, uh, you're pretty well-known."

"As are you, son of Stark."

"Oh, you can call me Blaine. What do you mean?"

"The man of iron has spoken highly of you on many an occasion-"

"Nope, no I haven't," Tony interrupted, nudging Blaine out of the way to get to the coffee machine.

"But you have," Thor countered, "You've spoken of his intelligence and of his courage, of his talents and-"

"Yeah, no," Tony cut him off, "Let's stop there, no ego-inflating."

"Aww, Dad," Blaine beamed.

"No, stop, don't get all egotistic and turn into me, your mother would never forgive me. Thor, I swear to God, would you leave some Pop tarts for the rest of us?"

Blaine grinned.


	8. In which Sam and Tina find out

Tumblr Prompt: Some of Blaine's friends in ND find out who his dad is

* * *

"God, what I'd do to have Captain America save my life," Tina sighed, her eyes glued to the television screen.

Sam rolled his eyes, "Thor's definitely the best. Look at him, he's just smashing the lot of them to pieces with a freaking _hammer_. How badass is that?"

"Mjolnir."

"Bless you."

"No, Mjolnir," Blaine repeated, turning over the page in his notebook, "That's the name of his hammer."

"Oh," Sam shrugged, "Whatever. Meow-near's pretty cool-"

"_Mjolnir_."

"Eh, I'm close enough. But- hey, Iron Man!"

Blaine looked up from his history notes. "When did he get there?"

"Just now," Tina said, waving a hand in his direction to shush him and turning up the volume.

"He's awesome," Sam grinned, "Like, second after Thor."

"I don't like him, he's cocky," Tina said.

"He's amazing," Blaine defended, "He built himself a suit out of scraps and got himself out of a hostage situation. He's saved God knows how many people, he's-"

"I know, I know, he just bugs me. He thinks everything's about _him_"

"Look who's talking," Sam muttered.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, nothing."

"Why's it taking them so long to take out a couple of cyborgs?" Blaine furrowed his brow at the screen, trying to tune out the ridiculously animated commentary from the news anchors. "Nobody's covering da- Iron Man, why hasn't anybody got his back?"

"Iron Man doesn't need back-up," Sam dismissed, "He's got it sorted." Sure enough, Blaine watched as his dad deflected hit after hit as easily as swatting away flies.

"I'm bored of this now," Tina said suddenly, "Shouldn't we get back to studying?"

"After this," Blaine insisted.

"They're basically done now, the good's bit's over," Sam sounded as disappointed as Blaine was relieved. Nevertheless, he held his breath until the last of the threat had been destroyed and the Avengers had disappeared as quickly as they'd arrived.

"I'm going to-" Blaine gestured in the direction of the kitchen, "Water, I'm gonna get some water." He got to his feet and left the room without sparing either of his friends a glance. He filled a glass, set it down on the counter and rested his head against the cabinet door in resignation. Was it so much to ask, just _one week_ without having to worry about seeing his father being shot at on live television? Apparently so.

Blaine clutched his glass in his left hand and ran his right through his hair, reluctantly re-joining Sam and Tina in the front room. "So, we should probably get back to-" He trailed off as he took in their expressions. "Uh, what?"

"Your phone was ringing," Sam said, "And I answered it for you because it said it was your dad and-"

"You spoke to my dad?" Blaine gaped.

"Well, I- uh…" Sam looked to Blaine's phone, which was awkwardly cradled in his hand, "I talked to Tony Stark. And I said I wasn't you and he said to tell you to call back when you'd dealt with this and oh my God why was Tony Stark calling you?"

"Um…" Blaine licked his lips nervously, looking from Sam to Tina warily. "So… I guess there's something I might have neglected to mention?"


	9. Sam and Tina follow-up

Follow-up to the previous thing. Tony is tactless, Sam and Tina are exasperating and Blaine's just confused.

* * *

"Dad? What are you doing here?"

Tony Stark stared expectantly back at his son, fidgeting a little on the doorstep, "I thought I'd stop by, you know, see how you were and all that shit."

"You came all the way here just to see how I am?"

"Well, you're my son, I do care about you a _little_ bit. Are you gonna let me in?" Tony strolled into the house past Blaine.

"Wait, no, Dad, don't-"

"Who the hell are you?" Blaine sighed, closed the door and nervously followed after his father. Sam and Tina stared open mouthed from him to Tony and back again.

"Blaine, Blaine he's in your house."

"Yes, Sam, he is."

"You weren't lying about him being your dad."

"Of course I wasn't."

"Mr Stark," Tina breathed, "If I may say so, sir, you're like ten times more attractive in person."

"Thanks," Tony grinned, "But seriously, who the hell are you?"

"Dad, this is Sam and Tina," Blaine introduced them reluctantly, "You spoke to Sam when you tried to call me after that thing with the cyborg and then you left me to explain everything."

"Oh yeah," Tony nodded, looking absently around the living room. "Well, you probably did a better job than I could."

"It isn't really the sort of thing you just drop on people though, is it?" Blaine raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Bombshells and shit aren't really my forte," Tony shrugged.

"Seriously? You don't remember the 'the truth is- I am Iron Man' debacle of 2008?" Blaine pointed out.

"Maybe I just wasn't feeling like indulging in any more drama after being repeatedly shot at," Tony offered.

"Which was _awesome_, by the way," Sam interrupted, "You were so _cool_, you just blew them up and you didn't need back-up or anything-"

"I _am_ arguably the Avengers most valued member. And it's only arguably because people insist on rooting for Mister All-American Hero-"

"Because he's _beautiful_."

"Tina, you can't call Captain America '_beautiful_'."

"Why not, Sam? Show me the rule that says I can't."

"_Iron Man_ is in the same room as you and you're obsessing over Captain America? Iron Man gets bonus points because he's awesome and he flew into that wormhole and he's _our best friend's dad_, remember?"

"So if Captain America was secretly Blaine's dad, he'd be who we're swearing loyalty to?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Tina, Captain America was frozen for seventy years; he was only recovered from the ice in 2011, so even if he _had_ got busy straight away, Blaine would be like a year old and we wouldn't be friends with a baby because that would be _weird_-"

"Are they always like this?" Tony muttered.

"Pretty much," Blaine admitted.

"Your friends are weird."

"Yeah."

"Is there any alcohol in this house?"

"Carver's liquor cabinet."

"If your friends are staying while I'm here, I'm gonna need to break into that cabinet, kid."


	10. Tony doesn't quite get it

Tumblr prompt: Blaine moves in with Kurt in New York, and now that he's closer Tony feels that it's his duty as a parent to check in on his son from time to time (meaning every waking moment) and Blaine's really kinda getting tired of it now.

* * *

They had it all planned out before Blaine's NYADA acceptance letter even arrived. Realistically speaking, cramming Blaine into the loft that already housed Rachel, Santana, Kurt and occasionally Dani and Elliot wasn't going to work. So, as of midway through July (after an extensive battle with Tony that still somehow ended with him paying a larger share than they would have liked) Kurt and Blaine could officially say that they were the proud owners of a two bedroom, one bathroom apartment, just ten minutes away from Stark Tower.

Of course, Carver had managed to slip in God knows how many homophobic comments about Blaine and Kurt living together. Blaine had ignored them; not even his mom's bitter excuse for a husband could take away the fact that _he was moving to New York. With Kurt._ And he'd _never have to see Carver again._

As if to make up for the new lack of parental presence, his dad made a point of showing up so often that they started to anticipate his arrival every morning over breakfast.

It'd started as nothing. Tony had showed up with Steve and Clint to help shift boxes (Bruce wasn't really one for heavy lifting unless he was in Hulk mode, and the Hulk wasn't really someone you wanted to let loose in an apartment you'd owned for less than an hour) and Blaine and Kurt had welcomed the help. Well, Blaine had welcomed the help; Kurt had insisted on getting a start on 'unloading what was already upstairs'. He'd kissed Blaine, smirked and sent him downstairs to lead the three men back up to the right apartment.

It wasn't as often to begin with. Tony would drop by after both boys had staggered home from classes, offering to buy them dinner.

"I'm just checking up on my favourite son," Tony had shrugged, "Making sure you're adapting to big city life okay."

"I'm your only son," Blaine had rolled his eyes.

"That I know of."

"And it's not like I've never been to the city before, is it? I spent a month of last summer out here with you."

"It's different when you don't have Ohio to go back to," Kurt had added.

"See?" Tony raised his chin indignantly, "Your boyfriend understands me."

Blaine did understand though. New York was loud, _all the time_, but when Kurt had to work or they didn't finish classes at the same time New York couldn't seem more quiet. He was lonely, to an extent. He missed constantly having his mom around.

But then his dad started turning up for breakfast.

Letting himself in.

Drinking the last of their coffee.

"He's worried about you," Kurt had smiled, drawing a blanket from the back of the couch over the both of them, "I think it's sweet."

It was 'sweet' when Tony realised Kurt was harbouring a secret knowledge of car mechanics and turned up halfway through dinner one night.

Tony was just 'worried about him' when a boy in Blaine's class made a less than pleasant comment about Kurt, and said commenter lost his place at NYADA.

But even Kurt stopped trying to justify Tony's actions when he walked in on them not exactly fully clothed.

"Hey, boys," The door had swung open, "I was passing by and- oh, dear God I did _not_ need to see that."

"Dad!" Blaine exclaimed, falling off the couch and scrambling to his feet, "What are you _doing_?"

"I just stopped by to say hi and I walk in on my son and his boyfriend going at it on the couch-"

"'Going at it'? We still have pants on!"

"Wasn't going that way though, was it?"

"No, that's it," Blaine scoffed, taking his shirt from Kurt and pulling it over his head.

"Blaine," Kurt warned.

"I'm done," Blaine shook his head, "Look, dad, I love you, I do, but you _can't_ keep _doing this_. I'm _eighteen years old_, I need _space_. You can't just walk in here like you own the place. Just… just _stop_."

"Okay."

"And I- wait, what?"

"Okay," Tony shrugged, "I get it. I worry about you, but I should… I should stop. I should stay in the tower and imagine all of the horrible things that could be happening to you and-"

"_Dad_," Blaine groaned.

"It's fine, it's fine."

"Tony, I think what Blaine is _trying_ to say is that you don't have to stay away _completely_, just… maybe you know, you don't have to be here every day?" Kurt offered.

"No, no, it's all right; I'll just leave and never show my face here again."

"_Dad_."

"Tony, you can't just guilt us in to letting you continue to show up unannounced."

"I know, I get it," Tony crossed his arms over his chest, "But I guess I could guilt you both into stopping by the tower more."

"But-"

"We could do that."

"_Kurt_, don't give in to his demands!"

"Listen to your boyfriend, Blainers," Tony chastised, "I'll see you both tomorrow then."

"Tomorrow?" Blaine repeated.

"You're coming over for dinner," Tony beamed, "Goodbye, boys." Tony sauntered out of the apartment, pulling the door shut behind him. Blaine hung his head in resignation.

"Kurt, what have you done?"

"He just wants to check up on us, it's-"

"Please don't finish that sentence."


	11. Justin Hammer is an idiot

Tumblr prompt: Justin Hammer kidnaps Blaine to get to Tony

* * *

"It's really nothing personal, kid," Justin Hammer clapped Blaine on the shoulder. Blaine scowled, shifting as far away from Justin's hand as the grip on his arm would let him.

"I'm sure it isn't."

"I just needed to get your dad's attention, you know?"

"And you couldn't have made an appointment like everyone else?" Blaine asked dryly. Hammer laughed.

"You're funny. I like you."

"Obviously not enough to not drag me into a back alley and shove me into a car."

"He's basically Tony, isn't he?" Justin commented to the man who had hold of Blaine, "It's uncanny."

"Whatever you want from him, he isn't going to give it to you now. He's just going to be pissed," Blaine rolled his eyes.

"He wouldn't give me Stark Industries unless I had leverage, kiddo," Justin ruffled Blaine's hair, "That's where you come in."

"Give it an hour; he'll show up, I'll go home and you won't have anything," Blaine said.

"Your faith in your dad is adorable. Really, it is, I'm touched. Mister Nelson, would you be so kind as to keep an eye on this one while I deal with a little paperwork?"

Mister Nelson grunted.

"Wonderful. And you," Hammer pointed squarely at Blaine, "Behave yourself, young man."

Blaine scoffed.

* * *

Blaine lay back on the couch, stared at the ceiling and sighed for the seventh time.

"Doesn't look like this plan's working, huh?"

"Shut up, kid."

"All I'm saying is we would've heard something by now if this had worked."

"I know Hammer said not to lay a finger on you, but I swear, you little brat-"

The door crashed open, taking Nelson with it. Blaine sat up. He coughed into the crook of his elbow, closing his eyes to shield them from the particles of brick. A figure appeared in the doorway.

"Blaine?"

Blaine coughed again. "Steve?" He opened his eyes slowly. The dust in the air cleared; Steve grinned.

"Your dad's just… uh, having a word with Justin Hammer."

"I'm sure he is," Blaine smirked.

"You wanna get out of here?"

"You know, that'd be great," Blaine got up, stepping carefully around the unconscious man on the floor. "Later, Nelson."

"I don't think Tony's ever letting you out of his sight again," Steve said, leading Blaine down the hallway.

"Nah, he'll get over it."


	12. The Nightbird Incident

"Jarvis?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Why do you suppose my seventeen year old son has a cape and mask in the bottom of his closet?"

"I don't know Sir; I'm sure if you were to ask him, Master Blaine would be equally as interested to know why you were searching through the bottom of his closet in the first place."

"Shut up, I'm his father, I have a right to."

"I think your son may view such an act as an invasion of privacy."

"I'm sorry, Jarvis, do you have children? No, you're an AI. Don't play the high and mighty card with me."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

"What am I supposed to do, Bruce? He's running around superhero-ing behind my back; what if he gets hurt? What is he gets _killed_? I have to say something, right? I have to make him stop. I'll tell him to stop. I'll just ground him forever."

"Well, you don't actually have proof that he _is_ superhero-ing, for a start-"

"Why else would he have a costume lying around?"

"Don't get me wrong, Blaine is quite possibly the sweetest kid in existence, he's polite and clever and he has your sense of humour and all that, but he's a bit… eccentric."

"You mean he's weird, right?"

"Not _bad_ weird. I'm merely suggesting that a superhero costume might not be that outlandish."

"And if he _is_ going all vigilante?"

"What can you do? Tell him 'it's too dangerous' and then carry on being Iron Man and putting yourself in danger?"

"That's different; I'm not a kid."

"Peter is. You haven't made him stop being spider-man."

"Peter isn't my kid, I couldn't make him stop."

"I'm sure you could."

"Yeah, well, Peter can hold his own in a fight. Peter isn't shorter than most guys his age or more likely to be targeted to get to me and Peter wasn't hospitalised because some thugs decided to beat him up in a parking lot because they didn't like that he was gay and-"

"Tony," Bruce interrupted gently, "It's okay."

"I don't want him to get hurt, Bruce," Tony sighed, sinking into a chair, "I can't let anything happen to him because I wouldn't speak up."

"So talk to him. You Starks are stubborn but you aren't stupid. He knows you just want to keep him safe."

"Okay. Okay, I will. See, you _do_ have the temperament for this therapy crap, you liar."

* * *

"Dad, you're kind of frightening me," Blaine said nervously, chewing his bottom lip.

"Right, yeah," Tony ran a hand through his hair, "Uh, I'm not really sure how I'm supposed to… uh-"

"Please tell me you aren't trying to give me the sex talk."

"What?" Tony's eyes widened, "No, God no. Uh, do I… do I need to? Is that something I should be doing?"

"No, please, God, never."

"Right. Yeah, no, that's not it."

"Then what-"

"I was going through your stuff. I know, invasion of privacy and all that shit, I'd say I'm sorry but I'm not."

"And?" Blaine prompted with a frown.

"And I found the cape and the mask and-"

"Oh!" Blaine's eyes lit up, "You mean my Nightbird stuff?"

"Nightbird?" Tony repeated, "What sort of a name is Nightbird?"

"It's my superhero identity for Dynamic Duets week."

"Your superhero- run that by me again?"

"Dynamic Duets. It's the theme in Glee Club this week. Sam and I did Heroes, you know, by David Bowie? What… what's funny? I don't get it."

"Oh, Blainers," Tony shook his head and grinned, "Bruce was right; you are weird."

"What? Why does Bruce think I'm weird?"

"Never change, kid," Tony laughed, ruffling Blaine's hair and walking away. "God, _Nightbird_."

"I don't- Dad? Dad, come back, I- _Dad_?"


	13. Shooting Star AU

Tumblr prompt: Shooting Star AU in which the shooters are after Blaine

* * *

Who'd knocked over that goddamn metronome in the first place? Was it him? Regardless of who was to blame, the incessant _tick_ echoed throughout the otherwise quiet room and it was driving Blaine mad. Although, when compared to the gunshots that had rang out within seconds of each other, Blaine would take the metronome any day.

He'd curled in on himself behind the piano, eyes on the floor so he wouldn't have to look at the fear in his friends' eyes. _There is a shooter in the building_. _They don't have to be here for me. They won't be here for me. No-one knows about me. Dad wouldn't let anyone find out. SHIELD wouldn't let anyone find out. They are _not_ here for me_.

Blaine's mantra was on a loop in his head but it did little to quell his anxiety.

"Get texting, tweeting, let everyone know what's going on but don't tell them where we are," Mr Schue had said. Fat lot of good that was to Blaine; his phone had died halfway through English. It was okay, though, he didn't need to text anybody anything because _everything is going to be fine. They are not here for me_.

There was a rattling as someone tried the door handle. Blaine scrunched his eyes shut, trying to block out the suppressed whimpers from the other side of the choir room. A thudding; someone throwing themselves against the door. _They are not here for me, They are not here for me._ A crashing as the door swung open with enough force to knock the pictures from the wall. _They are not here for me they are not here for me they are not here for me they-_

"Everyone up," The man in the doorway tipped his gun upwards, a hint in case they weren't familiar with the term 'up'. "Now."

Blaine tried to stop himself from shaking as he got to his feet, helping Sam lift Artie back into the wheelchair as quickly as possible.

"You sure he's one of these?" One of the two men flanking the ringleader frowned, scrutinising the teenagers stood before them.

"Yeah, I'm sure," The man almost smirked, his eyes finding Blaine. He smiled then, his lips thinning and his eyes glinting with malice. "Looks just like him. You're Stark's bastard."

The Game of Thrones reference would've made Blaine laugh any other day; now, it was all he could do not to throw up. He nodded, not trusting himself to open his mouth.

"See?" The leader turned momentarily to the other two men, "Told you he was here. Come nice and quiet and I won't feel the need to put bullets into any of your friends, you got that?"

Blaine nodded again and took a shuddering step forwards. He could feel all eyes on him, split between terror and confusion.

"Please, he's just a kid." Who was that? Coach Beiste, that was it, she was there. Blaine clenched his jaw and closed the space between himself and the man, who reached out, took a hold of his upper arm and pressed the muzzle of the gun to the side of Blaine's head.

"Yes, but he's _Tony Stark's_ kid," The shorter man behind the leader grinned. Blaine couldn't bring himself to look at any of them. Instead, he curled his nails into the palms of his hands and allowed himself to be dragged from the room.

* * *

Cold. It was cold and dark and silent. The only door to the room was locked and bolted; that hadn't deterred him from throwing his weight against it a few times, but all that had really accomplished was a bruise on his shoulder. Blaine had been alone for what felt like hours, but he had no real way of knowing. It had been fairly cliché, what they'd told him after they bundled him into a van and finally took the gun away from his head. A ransom. They wanted his dad's money and somehow they'd found out just who Tony Stark's rumoured illegitimate child was. And now? Here he was.

Blaine rolled the half-drunk bottle of water between his hands. At least he wasn't going to die of dehydration, which was something. Maybe they'd remember he was here soon and bring him something to eat. Maybe someone took the licence plate of the van and called the police. Maybe-

There was a thud. Blaine frowned and sat up a little straighter. The ground shook a little underneath him. There was a clink as a key fitted into the lock; Blaine got to his feet, backing away from the door cautiously.

The light that filled the room was almost overwhelming; Blaine squinted at the person in the doorway. That wasn't one of the men that had taken him, was it? That was-

"Dad," Blaine breathed, all but staggering towards his father.

"You all right?" Tony asked, lifting his chin and turning his head from side to side, "They didn't hurt you, did they?"

"I'm okay," Blaine insisted, swatting Tony's hands away, "What are you doing here?"

"What am- some psychos kidnap my kid _at gunpoint _and you think I wouldn't come out here and find you myself?"

"Well, you're busy with things, so-"

"And _none_ of it is more important than you," Tony cut him off. "Quit making me get sentimental; you want to get out of here or not?"


	14. Shooting Star AU Follow-Up

Tumblr prompt: Follow-up to the Shooting Star chapter where Blaine gets taken, in which Tony confronts his son about thinking his dad wouldn't come for him

* * *

"Hey kid." Blaine looked away from the muted television set as his dad sat down on the arm of the couch.

"Hi."

"How're you holding up?"

Blaine shrugged, "I'm all right."

"You sure?"

Blaine nodded.

"You've been pretty quiet ever since I first showed up," Tony said with a pointed stare.

Blaine shrugged again. There hadn't really been much of a need for him to say anything. His mother had all but suffocated him the second he and Tony arrived at the house. Even Carver had spared him a half nod and a pat on the head, like he was a wayward dog who'd found its way home. Tony had waved police officers out the door and Blaine's mom had made them all coffee and Blaine had made himself comfortable in the living room, content just to be.

"Don't shut me out, buddy."

"I'm not," Blaine insisted, reaching for his empty coffee mug and holding it on his lap, "You don't have to stay, you know. I don't want to keep you from anything, you're a busy person."

"What did I say to you earlier?" Tony said, "_Nothing_ is more important than you. Why is it wrong for me to stay and see my son for a few hours after having to rescue him from mad men with guns?"

Blaine bit his lip. "Sorry."

"'_Sorry'_?" Tony repeated, "What the hell do you have to be sorry for?"

"For being a hassle. For worrying everyone."

"_Blaine_," Tony sighed, shifting to sit next to his son, "If anyone should be apologising here, I should be. They took _you_ to get to _me_. Whoever let it slip that you're my kid has a whole lot of apologising to do, but SHIELD can deal with them. We can trust the guys in suits just this once."

"Okay."

"Blaine, _listen to me_," Tony nudged him with his elbow until Blaine turned completely towards him, "You are not at fault. You can tell me 'it's fine' or 'you're busy' as many times as you want, but I am _always_ going to put you before anything else."

"But-"

"Stop."

"What if-"

"Nope."

"_Dad_-"

"Blaine." Blaine glared in response; Tony smirked.

"You're ridiculous."

"Yeah," Tony nodded, "Probably why your mom got rid of me."

"And married _him_ instead," Blaine muttered.

"He's that bad?"

Another shrug.

"I see," Tony said, "Hey, Abby?"

"What was that?" Abby appeared in the doorway in seconds, too quickly for her not to have been listening in, "Is Blaine okay?"

"I'm fine, mom," Blaine rolled his eyes.

"I'm gonna take Blaine back to New York with me for a few days, kay?"

"What?" Abby frowned, "You can't just take him to New York halfway through the week, Tony, he's got school-"

"In case you'd forgotten, our son was abducted hours ago by crazy people. He can afford a few days off. And besides, where's safer than in a building with superheroes?"

"Well, I-"

"Great. Kid, go pack."


	15. When Blaine met Loki

The Tumblr prompt was kind of for a darker situation in which Loki finds out about Blaine and plans to use him to get to Tony, but when I wrote this I was quite ill and it was Christmas time so this isn't really dark at all.

Warning for a very brief reference to a gay-bashing (The Sadie Hawkins incident)

* * *

"Excuse me?"

Loki turned on his heel and stared curiously at the man- well, the boy, before him, "Yes?"

"Sorry, people aren't supposed to be up here without expressed permission," The boy shrugged and smiled apologetically, "And I think there's a voting system on letting new people in now, it's very democratic. I don't really know."

"I don't-"

"I did the rambling thing again, right? Are you looking for my dad?"

"Your father?" Loki frowned.

The boy nodded, "Tony Stark? Are you… are you not trying to find him, or…"

"Your father is Tony Stark?"

"That's what the paternity tests say."

"You are Tony Stark's child?"

"There aren't really many more ways you could phrase it, but, uh- yeah," The boy smiled again and extended a hand, "I'm Blaine."

"Blaine," Loki repeated, taking the offered hand and shaking it, "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"I don't think I caught your name."

"No, no you didn't," He smirked, "I am Loki." Loki paused, waiting for the recognition to set in and for the fear to show in Blaine's eyes. There was the recognition, sure enough, but the pure terror?

"Oh," Blaine said simply, "Are you looking for Thor, then?"

"I… are you not frightened? Are you not even the _slightest _bit concerned for your well-being?"

Blaine grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck, "People are just as dangerous, if not more so. You don't really scare me that much, you see."

"What could a _human _do to you that could eradicate any fear of me?"

"Well, some guys attacked me in a parking lot in my freshman year and tried to beat me to death, that wasn't that nice," Blaine lifted his hand and pushed the curls from his forehead, tracing a pale line on his scalp. "See that? Pretty impressive scar, right?"

"I nearly enslaved your entire miserable planet-"

"_Nearly_," Blaine stressed, "But you didn't. And what was the deal with that, anyway? Was it because you were jealous of your brother?"

"Not exactly, but-"

"Because I've got a brother- half-brother, but he's still my brother, and he's an attention hog as well and I get it, but _I've _never tried to enslave seven billion people."

"Because you clearly _care _for others. You are a _child _and you still believe that good resides in all people. People who have known me for the entirety of my lifetime have turned their backs on me after finding out that I am, in their eyes, _disgusting_. I cannot change who I am, yet they hold me responsible for factors that lie outside of my control."

"…Are you gay too?"

"What?"

"What?"

"My true parents are frost giants of Jotunheim."

"Oh, I get it. But really, you can't hate _everyone _just because some people have a problem with you. I mean, more people probably have a problem with you now because you went and killed a load of them-"

"Not directly-"

"Still counts."

"Most beings wouldn't stay to talk with a murderer."

"What was it you said? Something about me being a child and thinking everyone's good or something? I don't know, it's Christmas time, I like giving people a chance."

"If it's… _Christmas_… a Midgardian time for family, yes?"

"Generally."

"Might I ask why you're alone?"

"Some other taking over the world scheme, the alarm sounded at like four this morning. You weren't the first to try taking us over, you know, and you obviously aren't the last."

"I _was_ hoping to torment my brother, your father, the Captain-"

"Well, you've missed them."

"There are other ways through which I could torment your father."

"I hope you aren't suggesting kidnapping because I'm not really in the mood for that right now."

"Just this once then, as it's Christmas."

"If you want to see them that badly, you could wait? You know, if you promise not to break anything, because I'll get the blame for it."

"I suppose I could wait."

"Awesome. Have you ever seen Harry Potter?"

* * *

"Hey, Blaine, we're- what the hell are you doing here?" Tony halted, the rest of the Avengers watching him with confusion until they realised who Blaine was sat next to.

"I had hoped to see you all but I clearly came at a time inconvenient to you," Loki apologised, getting to his feet with a grin. "Your son was gracious enough to provide me with hospitality while we awaited your return."

"Blaine," Tony said, not taking his eyes away from Loki, "You know who this is, right?"

"Yeah, we talked," Blaine nodded, eyes fixed on the television screen.

"It was wonderful to meet you, Blaine Stark," Loki said, almost to taunt Tony, "And a… joyous Christmas to you?"

"Close enough," Blaine shrugged, "Lay off the killing people; you're cool when you're not a homicidal maniac."

"I'll try my hardest to refrain from such acts," Loki bowed his head. "Ah, brother, lovely to see you again. Must be off." And with that he vanished.

"Blaine," Tony sighed, closing his eyes in resignation, "Do we need to have another conversation about not befriending killers?"

"That's not fair, _Peter_ was the one who was friends with Wade, he started it."


	16. When Blaine met Deadpool

Someone on Tumblr asked me to write Blaine meeting Deadpool, because I mentioned it very briefly at the end of the last one. So that's what this is.

* * *

"What if he hates me?" Blaine whispered, following a step behind as Peter led the way along the landing.

"Don't take it personally; he hates just about everyone," Peter shrugged, stopping outside an apartment and rapping on the door, "Hey, Wade! Open up!"

"All right, all right, God, don't get your fucking panties in a bunch, Parker, I'm coming." Blaine resisted the urge to flinch as the door flew open. The man in question was about an inch taller than Peter and stood a little too casually for someone dressed from head to toe in what was effectively red and black spandex.

"You seriously just sit around here in that?" Peter raised an eyebrow, "Seriously?"

"I'm motherfucking Deadpool, brat, I do whatever the hell I want," He took a step backwards and extended an arm, "You gonna stand out there all day or are you coming in?"

"We were waiting for an invitation," Peter replied, nudging Blaine into the apartment. "Oh, this is-"

"Blaine Stark, I know. Kid's kinda famous," Deadpool finished. The inability to see his face intimidated Blaine; was he being mocked? Was there a smirk under the mask? Probably, there must've been mocking, Peter and Deadpool were basically superheroes and Blaine was a kid in a Glee Club with an affinity for bow ties.

"It's nice to meet you," Blaine managed, holding out a hand unsurely.

Deadpool scoffed, "Doesn't seem that way, does it? You look like I'm about to tear off your head and roast you alive."

"You aren't the most welcoming of people, Wilson," Peter said, clearing a space on the couch for himself, "Blaine's polite and you're an asshole."

"Shut up, Parker, I can be polite," Deadpool shook Blaine's hand vigorously as if to prove a point, "Wade Wilson. Call me whatever the fuck you like, kid, doesn't bother me."

"Right," Blaine nodded, looking to Peter to fill the impending silence but coming up with nothing. "So, uh, what do you do?"

"Anything with a pulse, really," Wade shrugged. Peter snorted; Blaine's face flushed red.

"Wade, you've gotta take it slow with the sarcasm."

"No I don't; you never seen Tony Stark on TV?"

"I've seen him in real life."

"Well, he's a Goddamn sarcasm machine, I'm pretty sure his kid can cope with it. Right, Starky?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine," Blaine mumbled.

"See?" Wade said pointedly. He paused. "Petey didn't tell you what I do?"

"Don't call me that."

"No, he didn't," Blaine bit his lip. "You're like him though, right? Like a SHIELD agent or one of Xavier's-"

"Nah, they didn't want me," Wade dismissed, "And I don't have the moral conscience for superhero-ing. In case you hadn't worked it out, I'm kind of a douchebag."

"Oh."

"No, I kill people."

Blaine watched him, blinking slowly.

"You can't leave it at _that_," Peter huffed, "I swear, Blaine, I'm not friends with a serial killer."

"You kind of are, Parker."

"You aren't a serial killer, you're a _mercenary_."

"Like Natasha and Clint?" Blaine directed at Peter, breathing a sigh of relief.

"Yeah, kinda," Peter shrugged. "Hey, when was the last time you cleaned in here? It's disgusting."

"Shut up, Parker, you aren't my mother."

"I was just asking-"

"Don't. God, why do I put up with you?"

"Because you have no other friends."

"Not true, I've got Blainers now," Wade ruffled Blaine's hair and then wiped his hand on his thigh. "God, you want any more gel or should we just buy you a helmet?"

"I, uh-"

"Joking, Blainers, it's a joke. You're rich; you've probably already got a helmet."

"Um-"

"Go easy on him, Wade."

"Yeah, yeah. Hey, Blainers?"

"Yeah?"

"What would the great Anthony Stark say if he knew his innocent little boy was hanging round with a killer?"

"He'd kill me," Blaine answered without a beat, "He'd probably kill you. And Peter."

"What?" Peter turned to glare indignantly at Blaine, "What have I done?"

"I'm here because you brought me here. My dad once had a guy fired for asking if he could turn down the Black Sabbath on the PA system. He gets a little rash when he's mad."

"Huh," Wade nodded, "Not at all over-protective. You'd better not mention it to him, I'm not having a stand-off with Irony man."

"It's, uh, it's Iron Man," Blaine corrected.

"That was another joke. God, you're so fucking cute, aren't you? You're gonna give me cavities."

"Oh. Right. Uh-"

"Just clear yourself a space and sit down, kid. If your dad's gonna destroy you for being here, you might as well make the most of it, right?"

Blaine tried not to screw up his face in disgust as he took in the beer cans Peter had shoved over to the seat next to him, "Um, sure."

"This is how we live in the land of the poor," Wade spread his arms wide.

"How much do you get from being a mercenary?" Peter raised an eyebrow, "You aren't poor, you freaking liar."

"Fuck off, Parker."


	17. Five year olds and Iron Man suits

Tumblr prompt asked for a hyperactive five year old Blaine running around Tony's lab while he's trying to work, which was possibly the cutest prompt I've ever read and Baby Blaine is my favourite thing to write.

* * *

"Daddy!"

"Blaine, what are you-" Tony set down the toolbox and caught his five year old son around the middle, setting him down on top of a table, "What are you doing down here?"

"I'm playing."

"Where's Pepper gone? I thought she was watching you?"

"Aunt Pepper hadda go and talk to an ex-ec-u-tive," Blaine sounded out, "And I'm not supposed ta stay upstairs on my own so I'm playing down here."

"Right," Tony ran a hand through his hair, "Maybe you could try and keep away from daddy's inventions then, okay buddy?"

"Kay!" Blaine squirmed off the table, landing lightly on his feet and swerving narrowly past Butterfingers. Tony made a point of pushing his piles of notes away from the table edges, flicking switches and stacking precariously placed pieces of metal in front of him.

"The power capacity needs some work," Tony muttered, tapping at the desk. "How am I supposed to-"

"Daddy?"

"Jesus- Gosh, Blaine, you scared me."

"Sorry."

"That's okay."

"Whatcha doin'?"

"I'm trying to make it so that the suit lasts longer and does more."

"The Iron Man suit?"

"Yep."

"For when you're fighting bad guys?"

"For when I'm fighting bad guys, yeah."

"How're you gonna do it?"

"I don't know yet, buddy."

"Bruce might know."

"He might."

"Bruce is really clever."

"He is."

"I like Bruce."

"I like Bruce too."

"Why isn't Bruce here?"

"Bruce is out of town."

"Why?"

"Because he needed a break."

"Why?"

"Blaine, why don't you go and play some more, okay?"

"Kay."

"And make sure you watch out for that pile of-"

"Oops."

* * *

"Tony?" Pepper called as she made her way down the steps, "Tony, is Blaine down here with you?"

Blaine popped up from behind a desk, oil streaked across his face and hands. "Hi, Aunt Pepper!"

"What happened to _you_?"

"I was helping daddy."

"And where is he now?"

"Here, I'm right here," Tony got up from the desk on the other side of the lab.

"Have you remembered to eat something today?"

"Daddy made us lunch," Blaine declared proudly, "We had sandwiches and daddy had beer and I had chocolate milk-"

"Is that was that is?" Pepper asked, looking thoughtfully at a stain on Blaine's sleeve cuff.

"It got spilled but we cleaned it up," Blaine shrugged.

"Right," Pepper nodded, "But apparently no-one's cleaned _you_ up. You need a bath."

"Don't need a baff."

"Do," Tony interjected.

"You want me to sort him out?" Pepper picked a scowling Blaine up, trying to avoid the grease.

"You're a life saver."

"I know."


	18. Of Dances and Parents

So the prompt for this one was: Sort of in a different 'verse then what you've been doing but I'd love to see a fic where Blaine was in the foster system (hidden from tony by Obadiah maybe?) and after the Sadie Hawkins dance Blaine learns who his dad is and goes to live with Tony.

This one is separate from the other ones for obvious reasons. This is like an Au of an AU. AU². I'm still uploading the already written ones from Tumblr/AO3 but if you've got a prompt you want to send me, my tumblr is " .com", or you can stick it in a review. Thanks :)

(Also I don't pretend to have any understanding of any child protective system in any country, so I apologise for inaccuracies)

* * *

Blaine had never really known who his biological parents were, but that hadn't bothered him that much. He was lucky enough to be fostered by a middle-aged couple, Edward and Liz, who didn't see anything wrong with a boy who liked singing and who didn't hate him when he nervously came out to them when he was thirteen. Sure, he'd wondered about his real mom and dad before; was he the result of a teenage pregnancy or did they just not want anything to do with him? In general, it'd never really been an issue, just a thought stored at the back of his mind to be worried over some other time.

But then the Sadie Hawkins Dance happened.

James had only asked him to the stupid dance in the first place because Blaine was a scared little freshman with no friends and, coincidentally, the only other gay kid in the whole school. Blaine had been somewhat in awe of the sophomore who didn't care what anyone had to say to him, so he'd nodded reluctantly and let James drag him along to the dance in a second-hand suit that was at least a size too big for him. Liz had rolled his sleeves up a few times and straightened his tie with an emotional smile, and that had been that.

And, as a whole, the dance had actually been fun.

Until it wasn't.

How many of them had there been? Four? Five? More? However many it was, they outnumbered the two boys and that was all that had really registered for Blaine as he froze in place next to James. James had stepped forwards, whispering to Blaine to 'go, run, go now'. But he couldn't. He couldn't leave James. He couldn't make his legs work. He couldn't…. he just _couldn't._ And then they were there, the four or five or six of them, hitting them over and over even as Blaine begged for them to stop and James was deathly silent and he couldn't it hurt he hurt everything _hurt_ and-

Blaine winced, forcing his eyes open. The room was blindingly white, the smell of disinfectant and musk was almost overwhelming- was he in hospital? The beeping of a monitor somewhere beside him confirmed his suspicions. It was silent, other than the beeping and… yelling? Someone was yelling out in the corridor. Maybe it just sounded like yelling to him because his head seemed to be filled with cotton wool.

"He's my _son_; I have _every right_ to see him-"

"Mr Stark, is this really the best time? Blaine's been through a lot, maybe you should come back when he's a little better-"

"I'm here _now_; I want to see him _now_."

"Mr Stark, _please_-"

A man appeared in the doorway, so sure of himself until he laid eyes on Blaine. The man paused, one hand on the doorframe. Blaine stared. He knew that face. Why did he know that face?

"He's _resting_," Liz glared at the mystery man, trying to make herself appear threatening despite the seven inch height difference between the two of them, "You can't- Blaine, sweetheart, you're awake! How are you feeling?" She hurried to his bedside, tugged at his blankets, brushed the curls off his forehead. The man stayed in the doorway, watching.

"I don't understand," Blaine croaked, clearing his throat and struggling to sit up a little. "I don't… do I know you?"

The man smirked, "I'm kind of a household name, kid."

"Well, I don't remember it right now, so…"

"I'm Tony, Tony Stark."

Blaine gaped at him, blinking dumbly, "Oh. Hello, Mr Stark. Why are you here?"

"I, uh-" Tony looked to Liz for assistance.

"Blaine, honey, maybe this should wait until you're better-"

"Why's he here? What's going on? You- you said out there, you want to see your son? I don't understand."

"This isn't really how I thought this would go," Tony sighed, making his way into the room hesitantly. "I've been keeping tabs on you. I didn't even know Abby was pregnant until I found out she'd given the baby up, Obadiah didn't think I was 'ready to handle a child' and-"

"You're…" Blaine scratched absently at his wrist, "You're my dad?"

"If you don't want him here, just say the word and he'll go," Liz assured him.

"I will," Tony confirmed, holding his hands up in surrender.

"Don't go," Blaine said, "Please. Don't- don't leave."

"I won't," Tony said, "I promise."

"Would you have kept me? If you'd known?"

"Yes," Tony replied without a beat, "Of course I would've."

"But you're not gonna keep me now, are you?" Blaine continued, trying to hide his disappointment, "You're gonna leave and that'll be it."

"Why would I do that?"

"You don't want a teenager."

"Less hassle than an infant."

"You wouldn't want _me_."

"And why not?"

"Because I'm- I'm gay." Blaine lowered his eyes to his hands, tracing the scrapes on his knuckles and the bruises on his wrists.

"So? Doesn't bother me."

Blaine furrowed his brow. "Really?"

"Really. Why would it?"

"You're not going to leave me."

"Well, ideally I'd-" Tony stopped, exchanged a glance with Liz and ducked his head.

"You'd what?"

"No, we should wait until you're better before we talk about that."

"About _what_?"

"_Blaine_," Liz chided.

"I want to _know_, it's about _me_."

"Hey, calm down, all right?" Tony said, reaching out to rest a hand on Blaine's shoulder but drawing it back at the last moment.

"Sorry."

"I was going to say," Tony continued quietly, "That ideally you'd just come with me when I left. But it's completely up to you, we aren't rushing anything, we-"

"Yes," Blaine said quickly, "Yes, please."

"You don't have to rush into anything here, kid-"

"I know," Blaine turned to Liz, "I love you and Ed, I do, but…"

"I know, sweetheart, I understand," Liz smiled sympathetically, "But let's save talking about this in detail for when you're better, okay?"

"Okay," Blaine nodded once.

"I'm going to go and call Ed, okay?"

"Okay."

"I suppose I should just…" Tony pointed to the door.

"No," Blaine grabbed Tony's wrist but retracted his hand just as quickly, his face flushing red. "Sorry. Sorry."

"You want me to stay?"

Blaine shrugged as best he could, "You don't have to. Sorry."

"It's all right," Tony said, tentatively sitting in the chair next to Blaine's bed, "I can stay, kid."


	19. Jealous

Prompt: Peter's great. He's incredibly geeky and he's super nice and he sciences with Tony and Bruce and _gosh_ Blaine hates him.

* * *

Blaine Anderson-Stark was not normally a jealous person. But then Peter Parker swung into the picture complete with homemade polymer webbing, and 'normally' became the operative word in the previous statement.

Peter was great. He geeked out over Tolkein just as much as Blaine did; he'd watched every Game of Thrones episode multiple times; he thumbed through dog-eared copies of The Walking Dead comics. Theoretically, it was a friendship that should've established itself. Peter Parker was Blaine, for all intents and purposes, albeit taller and significantly better at science.

As soon as the awkwardness of Nick Fury's bombshell had cleared, ("This is Peter Parker. He's the kid masquerading as spider-man. He's a year older than your son.") Tony had dragged Peter into the research and development labs with himself and Bruce and they hadn't surfaced until noon the next day, at which point Peter had remembered that he had an aunt who was probably wondering where her nephew was.

Every night for the next fortnight, Blaine got to listen to his dad waxing lyrical about how 'Spidey had this idea' and 'Peter thinks we should do this', and so on, and so on. Peter Parker was amazing and, as far as everyone was concerned, he could do no wrong. Clint thought he was the funniest thing since the dawn of time; Natasha silently nodded her approval of his hand-to-hand combat skills; Peter earned himself extra points with Pepper when he helped her carry in groceries; Bruce had nearly exploded in excitement when he'd found out just who Peter's father had been ("_Richard Parker? _Your father was _Richard Parker_? That man's contribution to the science world is almost _unparalleled_.").

So, in summary, Peter Parker was incredible and Blaine had never hated anybody more.

Blaine was halfway through a re-run of The Walking Dead when he heard the door swing open.

"Hey, Blaine."

Blaine resisted the urge to roll his eyes, "Hello, Peter. My dad's in one of the labs somewhere, I think."

"Yeah, I know," Peter said, taking a seat on the other couch, "I was kinda hoping to talk to you though, if that's all right?"

"To me?" Blaine paused the episode and turned reluctantly towards Peter, "Uh, sure. What did you want to say to me?"

"I was getting the impression that we might've got off on the wrong foot," Peter ran a hand through his hair, "Which would suck, because you're awesome and I've got nothing against you, it'd be a waste. And the way Tony goes on about how great you are-"

"He talks about me?"

"All the time," Peter nodded, "'Blaine's a much better person than I'll ever be', 'Blaine's so much braver than any other kid on this planet', 'Blaine deserves the world'. It's very sweet, actually. Although, it's a bit off-putting when you're trying to science."

"He honestly talks about me? Really?"

"Blaine, you know I'm not trying to like… steal your dad or anything, right?"

"I know," Blaine scoffed, "I'm not an idiot."

"I know, I know. But I get that I've been pre-occupying his time lately-"

"It's fine," Blaine insisted, his fingers curling, nails digging into the palms of his hands, "I guess he's always wanted a kid he can talk science with. Must be nice for him."

"Well, you aren't exactly stupid yourself, are you?" Peter countered, "Look, Blaine, I don't know what you want me to do, I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry," Blaine sighed, lowering his eyes to the floor, "I'm being an ass."

"You kind of are," Peter shrugged, "Tony does that too, though, the whole jealous thing. Whenever Bruce and I talk science without him, or when someone else flirts with Pepper."

"That doesn't make it okay for me to be so bitter towards you though, does it?"

"It's fine, it's in the past," Peter said, "You know, unless you still hate me or whatever, then I guess it's not in the past."

"I don't hate you."

"Awesome. Let's try this again then," Peter held out a hand, "Peter Parker."

Blaine smirked, reached out and shook Peter's hand, "Blaine Stark."

"Nice to meet you, Blaine Stark. Which episode are you watching?"


	20. Blaine Stark Saves The World

Anon Prompted: Blaine showing off how smart he is and helping the others save the day really just some BAMF Blaine

* * *

"We've got to stop this," Bruce paced the room anxiously, looking to everyone in turn as if one of them would give him an answer.

"We have to jam the signal," Steve said, looking pointedly at Tony, "If we don't, everyone on this planet becomes a puppet in this guy's hands."

I can't do it from here," Tony huffed, "If _someone _hadn't insisted on making us all sit around and talk about our feelings on a freaking helicarrier, I could be in the Tower and I could intercept the signal and-" Tony paused.

"And?" Natasha prompted.

"The Tower," Tony repeated.

"You said it yourself, you aren't there, we don't have the-" Bruce started.

"_We_ aren't there," Tony nodded, "But someone is. Jarvis, can you put me through?"

"Calling Master Blaine now, sir."

"You expect me to tell the council that I'm leaving the fate of the planet in the hands of your sixteen year old son?" Nick Fury demanded, "A _kid_?"

"With all due respect, sir," Coulson added from the corner, "He's a very _smart_ kid."

"See?" Tony pointed at Phil, "Agent knows what's up."

"Hello?"

"Blaine!" Tony clapped his hands together.

"Yeah?"

"Where are you right now?"

"I'm at home. Why?"

"I need you to go to Lab three, right now."

"You told me to stay out of the labs in case I blew myself up."

"Well, this is important. Go. Right now."

"Okay, okay."

"Is this a good idea?" Clint asked, "If he screws this up, he's going to hate himself."

"If he screws this up, we'll all be as good as dead and it won't matter," Tony said.

"Who's dead?"

"No-one, kid. You there yet?"

"Yeah."

"Good. On one of the monitors, there should be a satellite image, probably flashing red. Do you see it?"

"Uh… yeah, I can see it."

"Listen, kid, I need you to access that one. You're gonna need to find the co-ordinates of the original receiver and create an opposing transmission with the same wavelength to override the-"

"Okay, give me a minute."

"But I- I haven't told you how to-"

"Please, dad, it's not that difficult."

Bruce raised an eyebrow, "How does he know how to-"

"Blaine's secretly a science genius," Peter shrugged, spinning on a swivel chair, "He just doesn't like to show off about it, modest or something. You sure he's your kid?"

"You're so funny. You should give up the Spidey job and go into stand-up," Tony deadpanned.

"You still there?"

"Yeah, Blaine, we're still here."

"I've got an opposing transmission but I can't enhance it enough to completely cut out the other one-"

"We can do that from here," Bruce said suddenly, leaning over a screen and coding in instructions.

"How did you know how to do that?" Tony demanded.

"It's just wave properties, really, isn't it?" Blaine said. Tony could practically hear him shrugging, "Hey, who's bright idea was it to get all the superheroes in New York and stick them on an aircraft however many thousand miles in the air, nowhere near New York? Like, whatever you're doing, is it really taking all of you? You couldn't have left _someone_ down here?"

"Apparently we've got you for that now," Tony muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing, kid, nothing. I think we've got it from here, all right?"

"Okay. Bye then. Please try not to get killed."

"I'll try my best."

"Tony," Bruce said slowly, "Your son just-"

"My son just saved the entire miserable world."

"Are you going to tell him?"

"Are you kidding?" Tony scoffed, "The only difference between him and me now is the ego; one conceited Stark at a time's enough."


	21. Lost In Translation

Anon asked for more smart Blaine. I like this one because Coulson makes an appearance and Coulson is such a BAMF I just.

* * *

"If they were so keen to leave us a message, they could've at least written it in English," Clint frowned, angling the paper towards him.

"That would've been too easy," Coulson said dryly.

"What the hell even is this? Some fucking alien language?"

"You know, I don't think there's a specific alien language," Tony said, "That's probably offensive, you advocate of speciesism."

"Can't you just get Jarvis to scan this or something?" Steve asked, looking pointedly at Tony, "What's the point of us meeting in the Tower if we can't make use of the technology?"

"We're meeting here because the better part of this superhero pop group was already here," Tony gestured to himself and Bruce, "But Jarvis is out of commission, needed rebooting."

"Natasha isn't here yet," Bruce added, "Aren't we waiting for her?"

Coulson shook his head, "Agent Romanoff is currently preoccupied with other assignments. We _were _hoping that, between the four of you, you'd be able to work this out."

"Well, you were wrong," Clint shrugged, "Don't you have decoders to do this sort of thing for you?"

"They were busy," Coulson smiled tiredly.

The door swung open, drawing all attention momentarily away from the gibberish before them. Blaine Stark barely spared them a glance. He sifted through piles of papers stacked haphazardly on desks, lifted jackets, moved mugs.

"Hey, have you seen my glasses?"

"By the lamp," Tony drummed his fingers against the table top, "You want to take a crack at this?"

"At what?" Blaine asked, locating his glasses and putting them on.

"Technically, this is a classified document-" Coulson began. Tony waved a hand in dismissal.

"He's my kid, not an enemy spy." He slid the paper across the table, watching his son's face. Blaine was quiet for a moment. Then, slowly, he looked up and smirked in disbelief.

"You know this is upside down, right?" He said, spinning it round and pushing it back towards them.

"Yep," Tony nodded before anyone else could reply, "Testing you, seeing if you're paying attention."

"Of course," Blaine smiled, "Then I guess you already knew that it was Latin?"

"Absolutely," Tony said, "And if we were to ask you what it said, you'd say…?"

"The usual sort of thing you'd expect from someone with an impressively inflated ego."

"So your dad would know all about it, then," Clint said wryly. Tony chose to ignore him.

"It's literally just a heads-up that whoever this guy is, he wants to enslave the world," Blaine shrugged, "You _did_ know that though, right?"

"Oh, we knew that," Coulson assured him, "Good work, though. I'd put in a good word for you with the higher-ups but there's no way your father would ever let SHIELD recruit you."

"Over my cold, dead body," Tony scoffed. "There's no need for you anymore, kid, you can go now." Blaine rolled his eyes and left with a sigh.

"You already knew what it said?" Steve raised his eyebrows.

"No, we didn't have a clue," Coulson admitted.

"You lied to my child, Agent."

"You don't want SHIELD anywhere near him," Coulson pointed out, "I assumed you'd rather I lied to him than let Fury and the Board know that your boy is more perceptive than half of our junior agents. If anyone asks, you worked it out."

"Deal."


	22. Steve Teaches Blaine To Box

Anon asked for Steve teaching Blaine to box. This is set kind of after "In Which Blaine Runs Away To New York". Contains almost definitely incorrect information regarding boxing because everything I learnt was as a result of twenty minutes of google searching.

* * *

"My dad put you up to this, right?" Blaine asked, staring doubtfully at the punching bag hanging in front of him.

"Not at all," Steve said, his eyes lingering briefly on Blaine's fading black eye.

"Steve," Blaine raised an eyebrow.

"It was more of a suggestion," Steve dismissed, "It was my idea to see it through."

"Why?"

"Because I know what it's like to be the kid who gets beaten up all the time, and I'm not letting you be that kid anymore."

"Steve, this is really nice of you, but you don't have to-"

"Don't mention it, I want to. Now drop and give me twenty."

"I- pardon?" Blaine frowned.

"Push-ups," Steve said with an encouraging nod, "Boxing's pointless is you aren't working on building up your pectoral muscles and your biceps. Go on, get to it."

"Stand here- no, take a step back or it's gonna hit you in the face."

"Maybe boxing isn't for me?" Blaine offered.

"We haven't actually started yet."

"Right."

"The first thing to remember is to keep your eye on the bag. Treat it like it's a person; focus on it. But don't focus on one spot, or else you aren't gonna take it all in."

"Got it."

"Okay. Good. Now you're gonna hit it."

"What, right now?"

"Well, you've got the gloves on and everything now, why not?"

"I don't think I like the gloves. I don't know if this shade of blue is my colour."

"Blaine, you're stalling."

"Sorry."

"Turn to your right," Steve sighed, "Feet apart, elbows bent. Fists up."

"Like this?" Blaine turned his head to Steve.

"Eyes on the bag," Steve smiled, "But yeah, like that."

"Now I hit it?"

"Now you hit it," Steve nodded. "Right fist snaps forward. Ground yourself or you'll lose your balance."

Blaine took a breath and hit out. The bag swayed.

"Well…" Steve ran a hand through his hair, "That wasn't a bad first try-"

"That was terrible," Blaine interrupted, ducking his head.

"Eyes on the _bag_."

"I should just give up now."

"You aren't giving up now," Steve insisted, "Try again; punch the bag, don't push it."

"Can't we just call it a day?"

"One good hit or thirty push-ups; whichever you'd rather."

"Steve, that's _evil_," Blaine scowled.

"That's army discipline," Steve shrugged, "Which is it gonna be?"

Blaine huffed and turned himself to the right. Steve grinned.

"One good hit," Blaine repeated, "And then I can stop?"

"For today."

"One good hit," Blaine muttered, "One good hit. I can do that." Feet apart. Elbows bent. Fists up. Deep breath. Right fist snaps forward.

"Better," Steve grinned, "_Much_ better."

"I wanna do that again."

"I thought you said you wanted to stop?"

"Changed my mind."

"Okay. Again."


End file.
